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‘I’m tired.’
He ignored the prayer at first, since he had just gotten enough coins to buy a few more drinks. He wasn’t even tipsy yet and the night was still young.
Prayers flooded his mind on the daily and by this point, Venti knew how to drown them out.
‘I’m tired and I don’t even know why.’
There was an attempt to ignore it again, but there was something off about the voice, and it made him pay more attention than he would usually give these.
Don’t get Venti wrong, he cared for his people and in the realm of what was possible, he always tried to indirectly help, even if just a little, those whose true feelings reached his mind.
What did bother him quite a lot, though, were those prayers coming from the church. They were the same thing, everyday, without missing one—and not just from one person only! Oh, no, no… Every single member parroted the same old paragraph.
Their personal night prayers seldom differed, but at least there was something interesting there sometimes. Still, he didn’t pay much attention.
On the other hand, those from civilians were usually extremely shallow—fame, money, vengeance on someone who wronged them, you name it.
It was no wonder he flat out pretended they didn’t exist.
This one, though…
‘I want to keep fulfilling my responsibilities, but I feel tired all the time and I just can’t.’
The tone from the first few words made him realize who this was, and why it sounded so odd coming from her. She rarely talked about herself, the majority of times asking for the health of others, and when she did mention her own person, it was to thank him for giving her strength everyday.
How did Venti come to know of this? Because her voice echoed louder than the others in his headspace. Was it her faith, him liking her voice or a coincidence? He honestly didn’t know.
But the shocker of a prayer made his hand stop dead in its tracks as it was moving to pay Master Diluc for more wine.
‘I’ve been sleeping and eating well, so what is… what is wrong with me?’
“You do realize that if you want more drinks, you’ll have to give me the money, right?” came the guy’s voice, with his hand still extended and waiting for Venti to simply drop the coins.
His grip around them tightened and biting his lip as he considered his options, he finally drew his hand back and put the coins away. Diluc made his surprise very clear by his raised eyebrow.
“Sorry, Master Diluc, but an impending matter has arisen!” he announced and since he didn’t want to be interrogated, he left the place—not before giving a bow to everyone who was watching.
He never let prayers interrupt his drinking rituals, but coming from Barbara of all people, something pushed him to actually give her attention. Besides the fact that she was usually all no-nonsense and ready to thank him but never ask for anything even remotely selfish, he could feel her confusion and desperation at not understanding what was happening to her.
The streets were empty, with everyone either sleeping or in a tavern, so Venti didn’t even bother to think about how strange it must look for him to be standing there, doing nothing and with a pensive look on his face, staring at nowhere in particular.
‘What can I do? I hope you can bring me some guidance, as always.’
He looked at the cathedral looming in the distance and scratched the back of his neck with a sigh. Might as well see if she was outside. If she wasn’t, he wouldn’t sneak into her room, so he’d just go back to the tavern.
What she needed was a break, as simple as that. That girl worked way too hard for her own good and she never spent time doing things she liked without them being related to work.
Venti knew this, but usually he wouldn’t involve himself in her affairs since… well, it wasn’t something he could just do. Walk into the church or wait until one of her presentations was over to tell her that she should stop working so much.
They barely knew each other, only enough to recognize mutual musical talent.
Circling the building once he had escalated the stairs, he figured she would be around, at least. Not like he knew her, but Barbara didn’t strike him as someone who would exit the city at this hour.
Luck was on his side, because he didn’t have to look for long; she was sitting on the stone bench by the cemetery, hugging her knees close to her chest.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the darling deaconess herself!” he said, sporting a smile as he approached. Her head shot up immediately, eyes wide, and Barbara straightened up, dropping her legs and standing from the bench.
How unbecoming of her… She hoped the bard wouldn’t internally criticize her for it.
“Venti! I’m sorry, I didn’t know you would come here, I’ll take my leave.” That was what she intended to do, anyway, but before she could take a step away, Venti shook his head.
“No need. This place is big enough for two, don’t you think?”
Big enough for a bunch of people, really, but Barbara wasn’t in the mood for company at the moment. His felt… oddly comforting, though. Could it be that he didn’t look as drunk as usual? Or maybe she silently was craving to have someone at her side at this hour.
“I guess…” she mumbled, and after contemplating her options, sat down on the bench again. Venti took that cue and sat down as well, albeit keeping some distance between the two of them. She appreciated that. As much as she could recognize his talent in music, they were still basically strangers.
Or rather… acquaintances would be more fitting, with the incident during Windblume coming to mind.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, hands on her lap fiddling with her dress and eyes locked on the profile of his face.
“Taking a stroll, of course! Maybe trying to gather some inspiration for a new song, but mostly it was to clear my head.” He crossed his arms as he leaned back in the backrest of the bench, dramatically swinging a leg over the other.
“I figured you’d be in a tavern at this hour.”
Usually she would keep those comments to herself, or agree with a smile that Mondstadt at night had an almost magical atmosphere to it, especially around the Cathedral. She wasn’t sad, oh no—those 30 seconds had long passed, but she wasn’t happy either.
Numb would be the right term, lately with this tugging at her heart that she couldn’t understand.
“Oh, I was! Dandelion wine is too good to miss out on,” he nodded, making a brief gesture with his hand at the mention of the wine.
“Why did you leave, then?”
“I’d rather ask what you are doing here.” He shamelessly avoided her question without a care in the world. “I’ve never seen you out so late at night.”
She was never out this late, and if she was, she wouldn’t stray more than a few feet from the entrance of the Cathedral. A breath of fresh air, and then she would go back inside to sleep.
Tonight was especially tough. She was restless, she was tired but unable to sleep, no matter how much she tossed and turned in her bed. For a few minutes, she tried to work on her songs, but there was this unsettling feeling in her stomach, making her mind go blank.
Eventually, she just got dressed—didn’t bother to tie her hair though—and made her way to the cemetery. Unlike some people, she found the place to be calming, with the purest of breezes hitting the back of her head.
It didn’t take her long to clasp her hands together in a prayer, and reach out to Barbatos.
“Just thinking,” she mumbled and with the presence of someone, suddenly became self aware of her state; sulking, hair a mess and a smile absent from her face. “Sorry you have to see me like this.”
“Hey, hey. Why are you apologizing? You’re not a doll forced to smile and look perfect all the time. You’re as human as everyone, allowed to simply… not have a smile on your face.”
Thank Barbatos Venti wasn’t one of her crazy fans. She loved the support, but sometimes they made her feel like…
“Everyone expects me to be happy, though…”
“Yeah, well, I can’t blame them. Your smile is rather charming, if I dare say so myself.”
She chuckled and smiled genuinely for the first time in the entire day, even if it was a small smile.
“See? You just proved my point.” Venti swung a hand over the bench, facing her a little more properly with an arm leaning on the backrest now.
“On a more serious note… Doing what you love usually makes one happy, and I can testify to that! What made you feel so down tonight?”
Barbara didn’t know what in the name of the Seven was wrong with her and her feelings. The discomfort in her stomach blocked her inspiration and her desire to write songs, not to mention the automatic manner in which she indulged in her prayers and her work at the church.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he added after seconds of silence.
“It’s just… I don’t– I don’t understand it myself. When I work, I feel– it’s, like… Nothing. I want to, I really do, and I love what I do! But lately, I’ve been feeling tired immediately after I start working—but sleeping hasn’t worked. I even took a day off, but I felt uncomfortable the entire time. I didn’t enjoy eating or doing anything I consider leisure, without–”
Venti was silent, looking at her intently, but she missed the frown on his face when her hand went up to clutch at the fabric of her dress, right above her heart.
“–without my heart… my heart feeling heavy. It makes me dread taking more time off. I can’t– I don’t want to feel that again.”
He hummed, his eyes narrowing slightly and if she had to guess, he looked… surprised? A little. Maybe her taking a break was unheard of, or maybe feeling like this was surprising for someone like her. Straightening up, he materialized his lyre after what felt like hours.
“What are you–”
“Listen. Close your eyes and just listen,” he interrupted her, tone uncharacteristically serious for him, and began threading his fingers on the strings, notes flowing naturally. Barbara hesitated, but ultimately obeyed, and paid close attention to the melody.
There wasn’t even a hint of hesitation in the way he played, the song being smooth and calming for her; she hadn’t even realized her heart had been beating faster than normal until he helped her settle down. She sighed and the tension left her shoulders. Only then did she realize he was playing her song, albeit a more… bard-y version of it and thanks to that, she was able to hum along.
She felt light, almost like floating on a cloud; no worries, no responsibilities, no heavy hearts, just her. And Venti.
“How do you feel?” came his voice and when she opened her eyes again, his lyre was nowhere in sight. Had the song finished earlier and she didn’t notice?
“I feel… Better. Much better. How did you know that would help?” she asked while tilting her head to the side, genuinely curious.
Venti smiled a little; she was being more expressive, so he truly had helped. That was good, it made him happy.
“Ah, well. At first I thought you needed a break, but when you told me you took one and it didn’t help, then I decided to try something else. You love your job, yeah? But why? Why do you love it?” he asked. She hummed, lips pursed and a finger tapping her chin.
“I like helping people. I love being able to do something for others, and… and it makes me happy to know my songs make them happy,” she replied and then her expression turned nostalgic, one of her hands caressing the vision on her book. “Heh… After all, it’s why I got my vision.”
He nodded proudly.
“Yeah, that’s it! I believe you forgot your motivation, the why behind everything you do for Mondstadt. It explains why you couldn’t do anything without feeling that heaviness, because it turned automatic and it felt like something you didn’t want to do.
“It can happen to anyone, really. It feels like walking the right path, but not knowing where you want to go. You know it’s the right way, but you just don’t know why. Motives are important, Barbara. They’re what drive us to do what we do in this fickle little thing we call life. If you ever feel like you’re lost, give yourself a moment to think and ask what made you do those things in the first place.”
Recognition flickered in her eyes and she smiled fondly at him, soft and thankful. Venti thanked being immortal for once, decades of experience proving to be useful now, at least. His own motivation might have been lost long ago, but he couldn’t let Barbara’s spark lose its strength. It was too bright to lose.
“Thank you, Venti.”
“You’re more than welcome.”
She looked up and closed her eyes, her hands now intertwined on her lap. He frowned in confusion for only a few seconds, until her prayer reached him.
‘Thank you for guiding him to me.’